


What's in a Name

by Carmenlire



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec is capable, Character Study, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Happy Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Head of the Institute Alec Lightwood, M/M, Winter, soft boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 13:17:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15365508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carmenlire/pseuds/Carmenlire
Summary: The dichotomy of Alec is endlessly fascinating to Magnus. He knows-- was confronted once upon a time-- that Alec is surly and can be downright brutal, his temper running hot or icy depending on the situation. He can be rude and standoffish and frighteningly cold to whomever hasn’t earned his respect. He’s a consummate professional, a brilliant leader and tactician, but there’s no denying that his boyfriend can be a bit of a dick.But he's also soft and soaks affection up like a sponge, physically demonstrative in a way that Magnus could never have predicted.A typical day in the life of Alec Lightwood.





	What's in a Name

Damn it.

Alec sits up a little, away from the wall of warmth behind him, and reaches for the nightstand. He refuses to open his eyes as he slaps half-heartedly half a dozen times, hand finally finding his phone to turn off the obnoxious alarm.

He swipes across the screen and the bedroom descends back into silence. It’s totally dark, the December gloom not the only thing to blame. Alec’s alarm goes off at five thirty sharp every day.

He doesn’t want to get up.

As he settles back into bed, Magnus’s arm tightens against his stomach. The two of them lie there for a while, enjoying the calm before the storm.

As the power couple of New York, they rarely have days off and Alec’s schedule is teeming with appointments and a perpetual list of tasks to check off.

Alec isn’t a morning person. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t regularly wake up at the ass crack of dawn, sometimes with as little as forty five minutes of sleep, but it means that he doesn’t _like_ it. He doesn’t get a _thrill_ from having to leave Magnus, warm and pliant, alone in bed. He doesn’t _enjoy_ his feet connecting with ice cold floors and showers where he’s half asleep and swaying on his feet. His morning runs, a necessity and more dreaded force of habit now than anything else, don’t make him think of rainbows and butterflies and puppies.

They make him miss his boyfriend and his bed and just five more goddamn minutes of sleep.

He doesn’t truly feel like Alec, proper shadowhunter, Head of the Institute, until he’s had his morning coffee. Before that, he refuses to be a person.

Alec is three seconds from going back under when he feels lips against his spine.

That feather-light touch is enough to bring him back from the brink. He focuses on Magnus’s mouth, trailing kisses along his shoulders and sighs-- content, but just a little regretful as he flips over and sees his boyfriend, sleep-rumpled and adorable. His eyes are closed but there’s a little smile on his face and Alec can’t resist moving in and kissing him. Soft, chaste, just a meeting of lips. When he pulls back a few seconds later, he sees Magnus staring at him with unglamoured eyes, glowing faintly in the dark.

“Morning, darling,” he says, voice raspy as his eyes slip closed, lifting an arm on autopilot so Alec can wriggle closer until his head is tucked under Magnus’s chin and he can throw a leg over his hip.

They lay like that for a few minutes, Alec’s internal clock ticking all the while. This is often Alec’s favorite part of the day. It’s not unusual for him to come straggling back to the loft at midnight or even later. This time, however, these twenty minutes before he has to get up and become one of the most influential people of the Shadow World is precious and Alec often thinks that it’s the only thing that keeps him sane during frustrating meetings and ruthless political machinations.

He doesn’t respond, just noses along Magnus’s chest, breathing in the faint sandalwood scent that means comfort and home and love.

Alec enjoys a last moment or two as he plays over his schedule for the day. He has a conference call with a few other institutes in North America and he needs to reprimand one of his men for insubordination during the morning. Between various administrative duties that never go away, he also wants to squeeze in some time to check in on a few training sessions.

Alec can tell that Magnus has fallen back asleep by the way he’s breathing and the dead weight over his waist, so he carefully pulls out of his hold, cursing under his breath as the chilly air touches him.

He uses the bathroom, splashing water on his face in a valiant effort to wake up before he pads to the closet, throwing on sweats and a hoodie, lacing up his Nikes, and he’s heading out the door. 

It’s cold as shit and it takes the first two miles for Alec to warm up. He runs through the streets of Brooklyn, cursing snow and the cold and having to be a productive member of society, but he hits his stride and by the end of his ten miles he’s sweating but energized. He stops by Starbucks and orders an extra hot mocha with an americano before making his way back to the apartment.

He sets the cups down on the kitchen, taking a last swig of chocolatey caffeine, before ducking into the shower. He turns the water to scalding, stripping out of his disgusting clothes and stepping into the hot water.

Immediately, he shivers, but it’s a good feeling, steamy water heating cold flesh and icy bones. He stands under the spray for a few minutes, soaking it in, before he reaches for the shampoo. The rest of his shower is militaristically short-- the one deviation from his time before Magnus is the quality of products. He’s found that he, too, loves the sandalwood body wash and his hair just feels _nicer_ when he uses conditioner that isn’t ninety percent water.

Alec turns off the water and reaches for a towel, scrubbing his hair before wrapping it around his waist. He brushes his teeth and then decides it’s too cold to shave, dabbing cologne onto his neck and wrists instead of aftershave.

He wastes a few minutes trying to comb his hair into submission before going into the walk-in closet and getting dressed. He steps into a pair of boxers before deciding on an olive green cable knit sweater and black jeans. He’s doesn’t have any meetings today so he can dress down a little. 

He walks over to the bed, going around to Magnus’s side and just looks at him for a few seconds. He’s on his stomach, face smashed into the pillow with the covers pulled up to his neck. Alec smiles at the sight before leaning down and kissing his hair, running a hand down his back and murmuring, “Bye, babe, I hope you’re dreaming of me.”

Magnus snuffles a little but doesn’t wake up and Alec leaves the bedroom, turning off the lights as he goes.

With the bedroom door shut, Alec moves a little more freely, not afraid of disturbing Magnus. He goes over to the foyer, putting on his combat boots and peacoat, looping a scarf around his neck before going back to the kitchen and grabbing his coffee. He reaches for a post-it note, scrabbling a little message to Magnus before sticking it on top of the americano cup. Humming as he takes a sip of his still hot mocha, his eyes skim the loft, thinking of anything he may have forgotten before he grabs his keys and cell and heads out the door.

It’s just after 7:30 now and the streets are buzzing with commuters as Alec makes his way to the Institute. Alec expertly weaves through the crowd, soaking in New York in all its glory. He’s a New Yorker born and bred, and it warms his heart to see his city in such a way. 

It’s a few weeks before Christmas and Alec walks past dozens of storefronts decked out in red and green, adorned in twinkling lights and tinsel.

It makes something clutch in his chest. It’s pretty damn picturesque. 

Alec knows he has a reputation to uphold, both among friends and strangers. He’s surly and standoffish and likes to pretend he’s above certain things. The truth is-- and only a few close people know-- is that Alec has a romantic streak a mile wide and he loves the decorations and very feel in the air this time of the year. It’s whimsical and fun and makes having to work twelve hour days a little more bearable.

Alec’s just draining the last of his drink, head tilted back, when a little boy who can’t be more than four years old walks straight into him. He’s bundled up in a puffy coat and jeans, with a bright purple hat on his head. He was holding his dad’s hand but as Alec looks around, he sees that the boy must have gotten distracted with the festive shopping display a little ways down the block.

The boy looks up at Alec in wonder, probably at his height, and mumbles, “Sorry,” looking a little embarrassed.

Alec is set to respond when the dad chimes in. “Hey, sorry man. His eyes must have been wandering.” The dad’s eyes linger on him, but Alec doesn’t notice as he crouches down in front of the boy.

“Hey, buddy,” Alec says.

The little boy grins shyly at him. “ Hi, mister.”

Alec smiles, holding out a hand. “My name is Alec. What’s yours?”

“Antoni.”

Antoni returns Alec’s handshake, chest puffing out at being asked to do such an adult gesture.

Alec points to the Christmas display. “Did you see something you liked?”

The boy’s eyes light up and he starts jumping up and down. “Yeah, I did! It’s the Captain America shield in the window. I asked Santa for one for Christmas!”

Alec nods encouragingly. “That’s awesome, buddy!” After meeting the father’s gaze, seeing his nod, Alec turns back to Antoni and winks. “I have a feeling you’re going to be very happy on Christmas morning.”

He stands up and ruffles the kid’s hair before nodding at the dad and continuing on his way.

Alec doesn’t see the dad watch him walk away or the way Antoni’s eyes are glued to him with awe as he whispers under his breath, “I just met an elf.”

Alec loves kids, he’s always had a soft spot for them, and he always tries to be a little extra nice when he runs into them-- sometimes literally. He remembers what his childhood was like and if he can make a kid smile or feel okay, even if it’s just for a minute, he wants to do it.

He looks forward to having children of his own someday.

Alec ducks into another coffee shop a block away from the Institute, ordering his second coffee of the day, and paying with his Clave-issued credit card. He might hate the bastards, but he can’t deny that they’re generous with work expenses.

Alec’s smiling as he walks across the courtyard in front of the Institute but he lets it die on his lips as he opens one of the ornate front doors. 

He might not be a tyrant like Maryse Lightwood in her heyday, but he runs a tight ship. People don’t scuttle out of his path when they see him headed their way but he demands respect and excellence. New York is one of the busiest cities in the world and as such they’re held to a firmer standard than some other locations.

It doesn’t help their case that Alec is constantly trying to implement revolutionary progress-- he needs his shadowhunters to stay on their shit.

It helps that he doesn’t particularly like most people, too. Alec might be happy and soft for a few people but they’ve earned a spot in his inner circle. The few hundred shadowhunters under his command haven’t earned the privilege of knowing him.

Alec takes a sip of his latte as he nods to a few people who glance in his direction. He keeps up his stride though, not stopping until he meets Jace near one of the computers.

“Hey, what’s up bro?”

Alec shrugs. “Nothing much, just the usual. I have a few calls to make this morning.” He pauses. “Actually, have you seen Bluefield?”

Jace thinks about it for a minute before shaking his head. “No, he hasn’t come down yet. Hang on a sec, let me check the schedule.”

Jace turns back to the screen, typing in a few phrases and entering his password again. Once that’s done, the Institute’s schedule pops up, a list of everyone’s shifts available by the day, week, or month.

Both of them take a few minutes to look it over and Alec raises a brow as his eyes go cool. 

He and Jace share a look.

“Bluefield was supposed to be in the command center almost an hour ago.”

“Isn’t that right.”

Alec’s lips quirk in an approximation of a smile and Jace can’t help but feel a little bad for the bastard.

Alec looks over at Jace, “Would you--”

“Yeah, I got it. He’ll be in your office in ten.”

Alec grins and claps Jace on the back before turning to make his way to his office.

He slows a few feet away, looking over his shoulder and calling out, “Remember, we have a meeting at six to discuss strategic planning for the next quarter.”

Jace rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “Yeah, I know, I’ve gotten an email alert and everything. Go do your Head of the Institute thing, Lightwood.”

It’s Alec’s turn to roll his eyes as he resumes his walk.

Izzy’s probably still in bed-- she wouldn’t have gotten in from patrol until almost dawn-- so Alec makes it to his office without interruption.

He unlocks his door, sweeping it open and walking in before letting it close behind him. He shrugs out of his coat, hanging it on the rack immediately to his left, unwrapping his scarf and doing the same.

He shoves the sleeves of his sweater up before going over to the fireplace and throwing a log onto it, igniting it and standing for a minute or two as the fire builds up, as it eases the chill from the air.

Alec’s always loved the hybrid mix of technology and traditional decor shadowhunters favor. This Institute has weapons and innovation decades, if not centuries, ahead of mundanes but there’s something to be said for iron framework and ornate heirlooms and fireplaces that are impractical and inefficient in the twenty first century.

Alec sits at his desk, booting up his computer, and reaches for his coffee, taking a lingering sip as he waits to log in.

Resignedly, he looks at the corner of his desk where there’s a mountain of mission reports to approve and Alec wishes he could get a secretary.

It’s definitely not out of the realm of possibility and he laughs as he imagines Jace in the corner of his office working at a miniature desk, permanent scowl on his face as his eyes glaze over in boredom.

His thoughts break off as his computer chimes the start-up menu and he’s entering his password when his phone vibrates with a text.

Alec fumbles to take it out of his pocket but he’s rewarded. The text is from Magnus and when he opens it, it’s to see a frankly adorable selfie. Magnus is in the kitchen, holding the americano up to his lips as he pouts at the camera. The attached message says _thank you, Alexander. A cup of coffee doesn’t make up for you abandoning me this morning though :(_

Alec snorts a laugh and is just in the process of responding when his door opens unceremoniously, revealing a bleary-eyed Bluefield. It looks like he’s just rolled out of bed as he takes a few steps into the room.

“What do you think you’re doing.”

Alec’s voice freezes him in place. There’s steel in his tone and ice in his eyes.

Alec is not amused. He is the Head of the Institute and anyone with half of a functioning brain cell knows not to simply walk in without permission.

Especially when the door is closed.

 _Especially_ when they’re already on extremely thin ice.

Bluefield looks confused, offering, “Jace told me you wanted--”

Alec cuts him off. “I know what Jace told you. Jace told you to come to my office. He didn’t tell you that you were invited in. You knock when entering a Head’s office, Bluefield, and you wait until they tell you to come in.”

Bluefield immediately takes a defensive approach, copping an attitude. “Look, I don’t know why you wanted to see me--”

“Let me stop you right there,” Alec cooly says. “First, have a seat.” He waves a hand in a gesture that only a few would know was sarcastic and waits until Bluefield is sitting before he continues.

He raises an eyebrow, clinically. “You don’t know why I wanted to see you? Why I might have requested this meeting?”

Bluefield jerks his shoulder in an approximation of a shrug.

“Answer me when I ask you a question.” Alec’s voice whips through the room.

Alec dreads insubordination meetings. It’s always because the person in question is just an asshole or occasionally because of that _plus_ they have personal issues with him. It’s a pain in his ass to deal with because those people just don’t change. Very rarely is the problem something that is a misunderstanding or something easily fixed.

But, Alec’s always been the number one bitch in the New York Institute and he can match surliness in spades.

Plus, now he has authority on his side.

Bluefield looks down at his shoes and Alec patiently waits. Silence doesn’t bother him and it’s one hell of an effective tool.

After a long minute, Bluefield mutters, “I don’t know.”

Alec looks at him expressionless as he starts to talk. “Well, let’s see.” He ticks off each item as he recites it.

“You’ve blatantly disobeyed mission orders I’ve given you, putting yourself and your team in danger. You’ve disrespected Ms. Lightwood, the Weapons Master at this Institute, calling her undeserving of her position and disregarding critical information she gave you about your seraph blade. You’ve missed several shifts, claiming a variety of excuses, and you’ve shown nothing but contempt for me as the Head of this Institute, talking back and denigrating me behind my back.”

Alec leans in, one elbow on his desk as his eyes bore into Bluefield. “Now, I don’t give a flying fuck what you think about me. You can think I’m the devil incarnate for all I care but you will respect me. You will obey me when I give an order and you will listen to anyone who is your superior-- which, considering you’re a new recruit, is basically everyone.

“You’re part of a team. Even if you leave New York, your new institute will become part of your team, too. You’ll be one among dozens, if not hundreds, and everyone needs to do their part. I’m not talking about the sanctimonious ‘shadowhunters are the last line of defense against the apocalypse’ line of bullshit that they like to spout in Idris. I’m talking practicalities. I’m talking about the fact that you might be the thing standing between another person and death. You might be the only thing that keeps someone-- shadowhunter, downworlder, mundane-- alive out in the field.”

Alec’s voice hardens further. “How do you expect anyone to want to work with you when you’re such a goddamn asshole that you can’t make sure you bring a working weapon with you on patrol? How do you expect me to treat you when you can’t pay me the simple courtesy of not lying to my face?

“I don’t care what you do on your own time. You work the same amount of hours as everyone else and you get the same amount of time off duty as everyone else. Use those hours as you want. I don’t give a shit who you fuck or where you go. Do whatever the hell you want. But you _will_ show up on time, you _will_ put that Academy training to good use, and you won’t be _dead weight_ in this Institute, Bluefield.

“You were assigned to New York. You’re here for the next two years unless I decide otherwise and let me tell you, shadowhunter,” Alec pauses deliberately, not letting Bluefield break eye contact as his voice drops threateningly. “If I decide to transfer you, _you will not like it_. This is my city and my Institute and I have high standards. I refuse to let those standards slip because an inexperienced recruit with a stick up their ass thinks they need to act tough or whatever the shit. We’re going to hammer out your attitude right now or I can send off those transfer papers to Wrangel Island within five minutes. Your call.”

Alec relaxes back against his chair and waits for Bluefield’s next move. The little shit isn’t so smug now, Alec thinks, and he takes a sip of lukewarm coffee as the silence continues.

He can do this all goddamn day.

Finally, Bluefield raises his eyes and meets Alec’s stare.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“I’m sorry. What was that?”

Bluefield clears his throat, voice louder as he repeats, “I’m sorry for the way I was acting, sir.”

Alec’s expression doesn’t change but there’s a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. “That’s what I thought. Now, tell me what the issue is and we’ll see if we can fix it.” Alec takes a minute to look over Bluefield. He notes the rumpled hair and wrinkled clothes. He’s set to resume talking when he sees Bluefield’s hand. It’s bruised and refuses to close.

Alec’s quiet for a long moment as he thinks through the past twenty minutes. His voice has lost it’s glacial edge when he starts again.

“Look, I’m really not a bastard to my people just for the sake of being one.” His mouth quirks as he continues, “Bigoted assholes? Sure. But if there’s something going on here that I’m unaware of, then you need to tell me. I’m not a mind reader but I do my best to be a fair leader. When my people talk to me. Otherwise, I just have to go on whatever information I am given and if that creates another issue, I don’t know until someone tells me.” Alec takes a quick sip of coffee. “Is there anything you’d like to tell me?”

Bluefield is quiet for several minutes but the silence this time around is different. It’s not hostile or defensive. It’s contemplative and Alec inwardly cheers when Bluefield straightens a little, when he plucks at his shirt a little, self consciously.

“I, uh, I didn’t want to be transferred here.”

“Why is that?”

Bluefield doesn’t say anything for a moment and then his gaze flips up to meet Alec’s, like he’s searching for something. He must find what he was looking for because he takes a deep breath and says, “My boyfriend was assigned to Budapest and it’s hard being away from him.”

Alec nods slowly as he thinks about what he’s just learned. Ah, to be young and in love.

Alec’s only twenty five but just the thought of being separated from Magnus by such a distance makes his heart rebel. He can only imagine what it would be like if he had just turned eighteen and was fresh from the Academy.

“Well, Connor, thank you for telling me what’s wrong,” Alec says, soft note in his tone. “It doesn’t make what you did okay, but at least I have a reason for your behavior now. Is there anything else you want to tell me while we’re here? Something with me or my staff in particular?”

Connor swallows hard. “No, sir. New York is actually pretty amazing. It just sucks being so far away from him, especially since everything is so new and he’s so far away. I guess I was just mad and taking it out on everyone.”

His eyes are downcast as he continues. “I didn’t mean for Caitlyn to get hurt yesterday. I tried to deflect with something else when my blade fractured but I wasn’t fast enough. I checked on her last night and she’ll be fine but I’m so sorry I let her down-- that I-I let you down, Mr. Lightwood.”

Alec sighs before standing up and going around the desk, half sitting on its edge as he pats Connor’s shoulder. “I might come across as cold, Connor, but I really am here for everyone and while I won’t say that everything’s okay, I will say that I understand how you’re feeling and that these things can happen. Just, next time you go in the field, make sure that you’re properly debriefed and that all of your weapons are in perfect working condition.

“Thank you for confiding in me and I’ll see if there’s anything I can do about your situation to make your term here with us easier. You were at the top of your class, Connor, and I thought having you here would be a benefit. Now that we’ve talked this out, I want to see the Bluefield that earned top marks in Idris, alright?”

Connor smiles, just a little, and Alec pats his shoulder again before he jerks his chin toward to door.

“Dismissed.”

Connor gets to his feet, nodding to Alec before he leaves, closing the door quietly behind him.

Alec blows out a breath as he returns to his seat.

Fuck, if it’s not one thing then it’s another. Alec adds _contact Budapest Institute_ to his mile-long to do list and swears as he sees the time. He has six minutes before his conference call with North America and he uses that time to run to the restroom and log into his email, getting a quick look at just how much shit is waiting for him.

The conference call lasts two hours and in that time Alec bangs his head-- quietly of course-- against his desk fourteen times.

He keeps count.

There were half a dozen institutes on the call and every Head except Atlanta is a long-winded ass. The purpose of the call was to discuss how to improve Downworlder relations across the entire continent and while Mexico City and Atlanta were enthusiastically on board, the others were taking a lot of convincing. 

Alec was supposed to be point leader, brought in by Chicago, but the call was getting more frustrating by the minute. He had projections and his own experience to extrapolate on but he couldn’t get a word in edgewise without Vancouver talking over him.

Everyone’s tempers were rising and when Toronto makes a snide comment about Magnus, Alec cuts in.

“Excuse me, gentlemen, but we’re here to discuss shadowhunter business and our relationships-- _professional_ , Mudwick, so get your head out of your ass-- are important to maintaining peace within the Shadow World and, in fact, improving it. I won’t tolerate insults against my character or that of my boyfriend’s. 

“In fact, I think this call has dragged out long enough and we’ve attained all the progress we will for the day. I bid everyone adieu and I hope our next talk will be more productive with a more equal percentage of input from each party. I’ll email everyone the notes and we’ll continue this next Thursday. Goodbye.”

He hangs up, ignoring Vancouver’s blustering, and spends the next forty five minutes typing up the call minutes and sending out annotated versions to each participant.

He’s just hitting send on the last email and opening up his inbox to start going through his email when his office line rings.

“Lightwood.”

“Howdy, Lightwood. That was one hell of a meeting, wasn’t it?”

Alec grins, relaxing in his chair, as he tucks the phone between his shoulder and ear.

“It was indeed, Jackson. Can you believe Canada?”

Jackson laughs on the other end. “Of course I can,” he says sarcastically. “They’re always a pain in the ass but if we want to do this thing we need to get them on board, too. Much as it pains me to admit, Canada has a lot of territory and their downworld population is a little more concentrated. I think they have twice as many vampire dens as I do here in the south.”

Alec hums, thinking. “Isn’t Sheffield supposed to be stepping down next month? We can only hope his successor isn’t such an uptight, bigoted douchebag.”

Jackson barks out a laugh, quiet for a moment before he speaks. “I couldn’t agree more, man. We’ve always had comparatively friendly relationships with the downworld down here in Georgia and I just don’t understand why y’all yankees have to be such a thorn in my side.”

Alec chuckles. “Well, hopefully I’m one yankee that you don’t have to worry about.”

“If that ain’t the truth.”

The two of them talk for a few more minutes, going over goals for next week’s meeting and catching up in general-- with Alec promising that he’ll bring Magnus down for a long weekend soon-- when his other line beeps. 

He ends the call, switching lines to see that the South Africa Institute wants to discuss new training opportunities. He spends the next hour and fifteen minutes in an involved conversation with their Head, discussing possibilities for the summer and debating different ways to keep their shadowhunters entertained in their yearly training refresher.

After that call concludes, Alec stands up, stretching out the kinks in his back before drinking the last of his coffee, grimacing as it’s gone cold and kind of gross now. It’s almost two and Alec runs a hand through his hair as he makes his way to the door. He walks along the corridor, stopping periodically for mission updates or to sign documents and finally makes it to the training room.

The Academy is out of session for three weeks in December and the students take turns rotating through Institutes, training in different locations and seeing how real operations look. This week New York is hosting the six to eight year olds and Alec stops in the door to watch the proceedings.

He laughs as a little girl takes her opponent to the ground and immediately does a little victory dance. The instructor is working with another group near the front of the room and Alec watches as one of the pairs near the back try a sequence a few times, frustration increasing every time it doesn’t work out.

He walks over to them, crouching down as they all turn to take him in.

“Hey, guys, what’s up?”

There’s a girl in pigtails with a missing front tooth that steps up, explaining, “We’re trying to spar with the new move the instructor showed us but we just can’t get it right.”

Alec makes a point of looking thoughtful. “Why don’t you show me what you have to do and we can see if we can work it out?”

The girl immediately goes into a combat stance, feet shoulder width apart and fists up. She lunges forward and Alec tries to look appropriately cowed as he gently matches her, not letting her get him on the floor immediately. After a few minutes, though, he realizes what she’s doing wrong.

Sometimes people just need a win, though, to buoy their confidence, so when she roundkicks his stomach with particular vengeance, Alec goes down in dramatic fashion. He stays down for a few seconds, moaning pitifully, before he rolls over to his back.

The pair is looking at him with wide eyes but he sees satisfaction in their gaze and he smiles a little, internally. Fuck knows that he could’ve done with some encouragement when he was their age and if they think they took the Head of the Institute down, it will give them some incentive to get even better.

They listen attentively as he tells them what they did wrong and how to improve-- and what they did well. Alec never understood harping just on the bad things when someone could do a hundred things right but just one thing wrong. He stands up, wincing exaggeratedly for show, and holds up his hand for high fives, which the pair return enthusiastically. He nods to acknowledge the instructor looking over in his direction before turning back towards the doorway.

Magnus is standing there, looking at Alec with soft eyes, and Alec flushes a little.

He slides an arm around Magnus’s waist as he reaches him, pretends that he doesn’t hear the girl who took him down yelling _cooties_ as Magnus tilts his face up to meet for a greeting kiss.

“Good afternoon, darling,” Magnus murmurs.

“Hey, babe,” Alec replies.

Alec guides Magnus down the corridor and they walk to his office. They pass the weapons room and Alec sees Bluefield listening attentively as Izzy lectures him about the seraph blade laying on the table between them.

They enter Alec’s office and Alec heads to his desk, seeing a dozen more mission reports in the tray. He sits down. Magnus stands across the room, giving Alec a once-over, before he walks over, going to where Alec is, pushing his chair back and moving until he’s half sitting on the desk, legs bracketing Alec. Alec’s eye level with Magnus’s stomach and he rolls his chair forward until he can rest his head against Magnus, his boyfriend running a hand through his perpetually-disheveled hair.

Magnus usually doesn’t visit the Institute unless Alec’s missed plans or they have a lunch date-- or he’s there in an official capacity.

Which is when Alec remembers what today is.

He pulls back and Magnus just looks at him with an arched brow.

“It’s the fifth.”

Magnus chuckles, smiling a little quizzically at him. “It is.”

Alec glares at him in mock affront. “You’re here to update the wards.”

Now Magnus looks confused. “Yes?” He pauses. “What did you think I was here for?”

Alec knows he’s pouting but he can’t help it. He mumbles under his breath.

Magnus huffs out a laugh, reaching a hand out to stroke down Alec’s cheek. “I’m sorry, love, but I didn’t quite catch that.”

Alec looks up, feels heat climb up his neck as he says, “I thought you were just here to see me.”

Magnus’s eyes go soft and he hums a little, thumb brushing against Alec’s cheekbone. “As lovely as you are, Alexander, I’m here as the High Warlock of Brooklyn, not as the luckiest boyfriend in the world.”

Alec smiles a little as he places his hands on Magnus’s hips, pulling until he gets the hint and straddles Alec.

“What was I thinking,” he murmurs. “You must be so busy, Mr. Bane, that there was nothing but business on your mind when you came by.”

Magnus grins as he settles against Alec, winding his arms around Alec’s neck and leaning in until his breath brushes against Alec’s lips.

“I am a busy man, Mr. Lightwood, but I always make an exception for my most loyal client.”

“Should we discuss price then, Mr. Bane? I know you demand exorbitant rates-- only fair since you guarantee complete satisfaction.”

Magnus eyes dip down to Alec’s mouth and his tongue dips out to wet his own lips as he whispers, “Oh, I think we can come to an understanding, Mr. Lightwood.”

“Mr. Lightwood?”

Alec jerks upright as his heads whips toward the door.

Damn it.

Jace is standing at the door, face impassive, but his eyes are dancing with glee. Alec has just opened his mouth for a biting retort when Jace doubles over, laughing so hard that he’s wheezing. It takes him a few minutes to get himself back under control and in the meantime, Magnus shares a silent conversation with Alec.

They both roll their eyes at Jace, agreeing that he’s a child.

Once the wheezing has stopped, Alec feels it’s safe to start talking.

“What the hell, Jace, how many times have I told you to knock--”

Jace gets defensive, offering, “That rule is for everyone else. I’m your parabatai--”

“That rule is for anyone whose name isn’t on the damn door, you insufferable dumbass--”

“I didn’t think that applied to me, though--”

“I don’t even feel bad for what you saw or heard,” Alec says, firmly. “This is my office and the door was closed, so really you brought this on yourself.”

Jace squawks as Magnus smoothly climbs out of the chair, hand going to Alec’s nape and playing with the hair there as he observes Jace with an impassive expression.

“Always a pleasure meeting with such an esteemed leader, Mr. Lightwood. I look forward to future negotiations but I really do have to update those wards now.”

He winks at Alec before strolling casually past a sputtering Jace and out the door.

Alec glares at Jace. “Get out,” he says without ceremony. “I have eighty emails and three dozen reports to sign off on before our meeting.”

Alec turns towards his computer before he looks back over at Jace. “What the hell did you want anyway?”

Jace shrugs. “I was bored-- the meeting isn’t for another three hours and I’m not on the patrol rotation today.”

Alec looks at him, deadpan. “Take Clary out for a late lunch and get out of my hair.” He holds up a sheaf of papers. “Unless you’d like to help me with the spring budget numbers?”

Jace hightails it out of his office and Alec just shakes his head, clicking on an email and starting sloughing through his inbox. It takes him two hours and leaves a dull headache. 

People are such idiots, Alec reflects, and no matter how high their position there’s always room to annoy. Alec answers inquiries about basic protocol, follows up with the various committees he’s part of, and answers a dozen questions about his operation in New York in particular. There’s an email or two that requires special research and he prioritizes those for tomorrow morning.

Alec looks at his watch and sees that he has forty five minutes until the meeting. With that time, he goes through the mission reports, skimming before signing off on them. There’s nothing of interest except for the incident with Caitlyn last night and Alec’s glad he’d worked late last night as he was there to talk with her after she’d been to the infirmary.

He was a more hands on leader than his predecessor and he liked checking up on his people, especially when they were injured, to show that they were appreciated and that he actively cared about them as people, not just soldiers.

He sets the last report on top of the pile and takes out his stele, drawing a rune and the pile disappears, off to the archives in Alicante. He makes a few notations for his own records and when that’s done he slouches in his chair before seeing that he has ten minutes until Jace and Izzy will be in his office.

He takes that time to grab a cup of coffee from the kitchen and when he rounds the corner he sees Isabelle walking to his office from the other side.

“Hey, what’s up? You’re five minutes early?”

Izzy laughs, “I wanted to update you about the weapons budget before we began. Nothing formal, I just wanted to let you know that the Iron Sisters made these sweet dual wielding blades and I wanted to purchase half a dozen-- but they’re about twenty percent more expensive than the traditional blades so I’ll be a little low for next month to compensate.”

Alec nods as they walk into his office. Izzy follows him over to the desk, stopping in front of it as Alec walks around, reaches for a pen and post-it to jot the information down to deal with later this week.

Jace walks in as he’s fixing the note to the bottom of his computer screen, shutting the door behind him with his foot, hands full with a folder and eating a cookie.

“Where did you get that,” Izzy commands. “The ones in the kitchen are stale.”

Jace grins and speaks, crumbs flying everywhere. “I took Clary to this bistro for lunch and they had a bakery section.”

He holds his arms up as Izzy advances on him. “I bought a dozen.” His head jerks in the general direction of the kitchen. “I left the box on the counter with strict instructions to leave you one.”

Izzy stands down, looking mollified and Alec lets out a deep breath.

While Jace didn’t have an official position, everyone knew that the Lightwood siblings were close-- Alec regularly met with the two of them to discuss problems or prospective plans he was thinking about.

The three of them head over to the seating area in the corner, Izzy and Jace sharing the couch while Alec settles into the chair opposite them.

“Alright, I want to talk about some plans for the spring. Really, I just need to run some ideas by you guys about combat training and budgets--”

Alec breaks off as his door opens without warning, smile immediately coming over his face as he sees Magnus stroll in.

“Hey, you.”

Magnus looks over his shoulder as he closes the door, takes in Izzy and Jace. “Hey, yourself. If this is a confidential meeting, I can head out. I just finished with the wards and wanted to let you know--”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Alec says, waving a hand to gesture him over. “You know you’re always welcome here.”

Alec misses the look that passes between Jace and Izzy but Magnus doesn’t. He walks over to his boyfriend, notes the shadows under his eyes, and resolves to whisk Alec out of here as soon as he’s done with this little meeting.

Alec’s head tilts back as Magnus comes closer and when Magnus places a hand on his neck, thumb stroking over the deflect rune, he sighs, relaxing into the touch.

Magnus grins. Alexander is just a tall teddy bear, really, and he tunes out the conversation as it ebbs and flows around him, focused more on Alec than whatever vitally important topics his boyfriend needed to discuss.

Alec rarely excludes Magnus from meetings or about work concerns, but Magnus likes to keep things in perspective-- he knows most shadowhunters and the Clave wouldn’t appreciate just how much Alec has shared with him.

It helps that he could observe Alec for centuries and not grow bored. Magnus is in the middle of thinking about what to have for dinner-- he’s feeling takeout seeing as Alec looks exhausted and his own day hasn’t been a breeze-- when Alec reaches up and takes the hand that was still on his neck. 

He doesn’t stop talking, his authoritative voice doesn’t pause as he continues his diatribe on whatever, but all the while he’s interlacing their hands, playing with Magnus’s fingers in an unconscious move that betrays his familiarity and comfort with him.

It’s not surprising, for fuck’s sake everyone, _especially_ Jace and Izzy, knows how devoted they are to each other but it makes something warm bloom in Magnus’s chest all the same.

It’s not particularly surprising to him, after all. Lilith knew Alexander loved physical contact, he soaks up affection like a sponge, but when he looks up Magnus sees Izzy’s eyes glued to their joined hands. Magnus raises a brow but Isabelle just shakes her head, smiling a little as Alec winds down.

Jace responds and Alec looks thoughtful as he brings their hands up to his face, running them over his cheek, ducking a quick kiss to Magnus’s knuckles before he’s shutting down whatever Jace had just said.

Magnus loves this boy so much. He’s a constant surprise of the very best kind and Magnus never gets enough of how demonstrative Alec is when he’s comfortable-- their loft, on dates, with just his family as witnesses-- and increasingly in public.

It makes it all the sweeter that Alec doesn’t even realize what he’s doing, his focus on hammering out whatever him and Jace are discussing.

The dichotomy of Alec is endlessly fascinating to Magnus. He knows-- was confronted once upon a time-- that Alec is surly and can be downright brutal, his temper running hot or icy depending on the situation. 

He can be blunt to the point of being rude and standoffish and frighteningly cold to whomever hasn’t earned his respect. He’s a consummate professional, a brilliant leader and tactician, but there’s no denying that his boyfriend can be a bit of a dick.

Truthfully, Magnus finds it adorable and just a bit funny. Alec’s wrath and annoyance is never directed at him and it’s too entertaining-- a little hot if he’s honest-- to see Alec freeze anyone in their tracks with his abrupt manners. Authority screams from his voice and posture and that effortlessly displayed power is lovely to see.

Oh, Magnus knows that Alec will always be grumpy in the mornings or menacing when he doesn’t get enough sleep. But, it’s endearing. Morning Alec with his boyfriend is sleepy and just wants to cuddle before facing the world. Magnus loves being the eye of the storm for Alec, the safe harbour, the place of comfort. Magnus has laughed more than once when Alec had gone directly from being clingy and achingly soft with him to a commanding leader or snappish big brother.

Magnus doesn’t take that privilege for granted.

His thoughts break off as Jace and Isabelle stand up, Alec having obviously concluded the meeting. He nods to both of them and they leave the room within the minute.

The office is silent. Alec leans back in his chair, probably ruminating on whatever they’d discussed and Magnus moves until he’s directly behind Alec. He leans down, wrapping his arms around his neck from behind, puts his mouth to Alec’s ear, whispering, “Ready for home, darling?”

Alec startles a little, turns his head until he can look at Magnus. He smiles, but it’s a tired smile, full of love and relief as he noses along Magnus’s cheek.

“Home,” he confirms.

Magnus sneaks a kiss onto his nose before stepping back, letting Alec stand up. Alec pauses when he’s upright, looks over his office before putting on his coat and scarf. He puts the fire out and turns to see Magnus waiting for him.

Goddamn, he’s tired.

Magnus reaches a hand out and Alec meets him halfway, lacing their fingers together.

“How do you feel about pizza for dinner, love?”

Alec’s stomach chooses that moment to growl and he smiles sheepishly at his boyfriend. “Great. I’m starving. I haven’t had a chance to eat anything today.”

Magnus tsks before waving a portal. Still holding hands, Alec follows Magnus and they land in the loft.

Alec looks at him, deadpan. “If I had known how we were traveling, I wouldn’t have put my coat on.”

Magnus shrugs. “I have to keep you on your toes. It wouldn’t do for you to grow bored with me.”

Alec’s gaze warms as it roves over Magnus’s face. He tugs on his arm, pulling him close, before murmuring, “Never,” and kissing him. It’s soft, and lingering, and a balm to another exhausting day.

Alec pulls back as he smells pizza wafting through the loft. He arches a brow. “Really?”

Magnus just smiles. “We’re starving and you look dead on your feet.” He turns towards the bedroom, calling over his shoulder. “You know you love it, Alexander.”

Alec mutters, “I love _you_ ,” but he doesn’t think that Magnus hears him as he follows. They change into pajamas without delay, and Alec feels the weight settle over him. He loves his job but damn if it isn’t demanding.

He walks into the bathroom and sees Magnus taking his makeup off. He takes a few steps until he’s standing behind him and hooks his chin over his shoulder, wrapping his arms around his waist.

He sighs again, but this time it’s like a breath of fresh air.

Magnus hums as he finishes, reaching a hand back to run through his hair. Alec just stands there, supported by Magnus and waits until he’s finished.

Once he is, Magnus turns in Alec’s arms, widening his stance so Alec can lean into him more.

“Ready for dinner, darling,” he asks, softly.

Alec makes an unintelligible noise in confirmation before he’s pulling back. They walk to the kitchen island together and each take a few pieces, settling on the couch. Magnus puts on a rerun of a nineties sitcom and Alec eats mechanically. 

The pizza is delicious and he knows he needs the fuel since he’s only had a few cups of coffee today, so he eats with single minded focus.

When he’s done though, he sets his plate on the coffee table and then moves so he can wrap around Magnus, who’s now enjoying a glass of wine while watching tv.

Magnus chuckles a little as Alec slings an arm around his waist and throws his legs between his. He takes a sip of wine and his other hand goes to Alec’s hair, smoothing it, scratching lightly at the scalp.

It feels so good and Alec melts against him, eyes slipping close. They sit there together in the low light when all of a sudden Magnus is shaking him.

Alec’s eyes open and he blearily looks at Magnus who’s smiling softly. “Go to bed, Alexander. You’re falling asleep on top of me and you know how uncomfortable it is for your lanky ass to sleep on this couch.”

Alec just burrows deeper into Magnus’s side, shaking his head. “No. Comfy.”

He’s already over halfway back to sleep when Magnus shakes his shoulders. He huffs out a dramatic sigh, aggrieved. Magnus laughs.

“C’mon, up, darling. I refuse to listen to you complain in the morning when there’s a crick in your neck.”

Alec stands, swaying a little, and shuffles to the bedroom. He stops at the threshold when he realizes Magnus isn’t with him. He turns around to see Magnus filling his wine glass.

“Aren’t you coming?”

Magnus looks up, shaking his head. “It’s only eight. I want to work in my study for a few hours. I’ll join you later.”

Alec nods before walking into the bedroom and shutting the door behind him. Magnus was more of a night owl than his own early bird and Alec knew it might be after midnight before Magnus retired for the night. 

He all but falls into bed, thinking that sleeping for the next ten hours sounds heavenly. He hadn’t gotten back to the loft until almost two in the morning the night before and today had dragged on, no matter that he’d kept busy.

His last thought before he falls back under is that he doesn’t mind as long as he always has Magnus to come home to.

Magnus, for his part, has half a dozen orders to fulfill for tomorrow. His own day hadn’t been too demanding, just a few clients and a meeting with a Siberian warlock about a petty dispute with another high warlock.

When he finishes the last potion he sees that it’s half to midnight and he puts his materials and ingredients away.

Magnus never minds when Alec goes to bed early-- he’s usually grateful. Alec operates on much less sleep than he needs and it gives Magnus some alone time to do his own thing a few nights a week.

He turns off the light and makes his way to their bedroom, carefully opening the door. It’s a full moon and through the gauzy curtains, Magnus sees Alec face down in the bed, hugging a pillow. 

He climbs into bed and barely has time to settle before Alec is moving, shuffling towards him in his sleep. He has a faceful of hair as Alec moves half on top of him and Magnus laughs, silently, at how much of a damn octopus Alexander is, even in his sleep.

Magnus breathes deep, letting it out slowly as he thinks about tomorrow and next month and next year.

As long as he has Alec, he’ll be okay.

He drifts off with those thoughts, at the knowledge that he falls more in love with his shadowhunter every day.

He pulls Alec closer and falls sleep with a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Catch me on tumblr @carmenlire


End file.
